


Fairy Tale

by Mahozahamy_Arisugawa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drama, M/M, Morbid Humor, Post Epilogue, Post-Canon, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Remorse, Running Away, Supernatural Elements, Warning trigger: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25471330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahozahamy_Arisugawa/pseuds/Mahozahamy_Arisugawa
Summary: His life was like a fairy tale now... 'They lived happily ever after'. This was the happy end.Just that.But for him it meant nothing. Not an end or a beginning. For him was just the pass of empty years...And nothing else.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	Fairy Tale

His still sparkling green eyes now looked at the world through square-rimmed glasses, more accordingly with the shape of his face than the round, childish ones he used to wear at school.

 _'School ...?_ ' asked a lethargic voice in his mind, dry as sandpaper.

He looked up from the book he had been looking at for the past hour without actually reading it at all. He knew the everything in it by heart, he said it was his favorite, but the truth was he used it as a sad excuse when he wished, like now, to be alone for a while, get lost in his mind... if only for a moment.

With each year that passed his face lost little by little his childhood softness and then a little of his youthful freshness. Now he had a much mature, serious face. Much more serious than in the past decade. Still handsome, or so was he often told. He liked to think he looked quite normal, content, serene...

Nineteen years had passed... Nineteen years since everything ended.

For him.

The phrase 'the end' was then written, and everyone celebrated. Everywhere was joy, relief, happiness. World celebrations were held all around the magic community... oceans not just rivers of ink flowed in the media about his latest accomplishment...

Praising the savior of the Wizarding World.

Honoring the victims of a war that went on far too long... He remembered it all so very clearly. And wished he didn't.

Days started passing, then months, a ton of pictures were made. Faking a smile for them was everything he could do...

But inside... inside was only grey...

It had been nineteen years since then, a lifetime. Nineteen bitter years that most times that not seemed like a lie. A sad comedy if such a thing could exist.

Nothing by the parody of a children's story. Filled with cruel _Irony_.

Everything looked so perfect. So effortless. So... Happy.

_Looked._

It looked happy. Everybody was happy. Everybody went on with their lives. Ones more fortunate than others...

He keep it on. Smiling, joking... faking... Going on for the sake of people that looked up to him... for the sake of his friends whom he loved... for the sake of a brave girl who had been there for him... still hoping...

But inside, inside there was something so painful, so confusing, so atrocious, that he didn't thought he could take it another second.

Why did the years have to continue?

He remembered the past Christmas celebration. That one was without a doubt one of the worst lies of all. Surrounded by his friends and family, by his kids, he was unable to smile even once authentically. He didn't had the guts...

It felt all... so... empty. Somber as the death.

Even surrounded by people, it all felt unreal, as if he was looking at a picture. Or a movie... Good, happy and perfect but not real.

Gripping harshly the red leather book in his hands he trembled violently, closing his eyes to keep away the shadows that threatened to eat him alive...

Something shattered, but he didn't know what it was... if it was in his mind, in his soul...

Or if something really fell in the room.

The abrupt notice of all the familiar sounds of the house brought him out of his trance. His name... Someone was calling him. He couldn't understand the words, but he put on his face that strange grimace that resembled barely a rigid smile.

Unconvincing, sure, but it was better than nothing.

A cheerful, beautiful, and luminous face framed by long, straight red hair loomed out of the kitchen door frame, startling him slightly. She was wearing a white apron over the dress and was whisking in a bowl with a large wooden spoon.

"... It will be ready in a minute. Don't fall asleep again in there please." She said widening her sincere and happy smile, speaking with the sweet kind voice that characterized her, then turned around and left to continue her work. 

Harry looked at the space where she disappeared. How many little details... A red hair, a kind smile. That splendor... her beauty, and youth. They all reminded him so much of his own mother. Lily.

Feeling devastated he called out his young wife, finally closing the red-bound book. "Ginny?"

An old, profoundly personal wound in the middle of his very soul had been ripped out again with the sudden memories.

He could almost feel his withered heart bleeding.

The young woman showed her head, smiling, but as soon as she looked at her husband that smile froze on her lips and her words died. Her whole expression fell... the expression on Harry's face was... terrifying. She didn't know why but that face... that expression... was so painful... worse than a scream.

Something really terrible must have happen to him. A chill ran down her spine...

No... it cannot...

 _"Harry?"_ She asked scared, throwing all her utensils on the sink and running to his side. "Is something wrong? Are you all right? Answer me! Do you feel sick?" She asked kneeling down on the rug and placing her hands on Harry's knee. 

"I... feel fine" Harry answered, forcing his face into a mask made of stone "Really. Sorry if I scared you, just felt dizzy" He lied immediately, desperate to calm her, plastering over his face another very fake smile. "I'm okay"

Ginny looked sternly at him, Harry keep up valiantly his smile. It was all he had. Apparently it worked to some extent as Ginny got up, smiling back at him. 

"It seems I'm more tired than I have realized" He said, his smile now more confident "It's nothing. Really"

"Are you sure you don't need anything? If you like I can call Neville, you know it won't bother him to check... or maybe Hermione surely knows some..."

"Ginny..." Harry interrupted her, taking her hands. "Leave it." he asked looking at her directly into the eyes. "I'm fine"

This time the young woman smiled, letting out a sigh... 

"You really scared me. Please, please don't do that ever again" she replied reproachfully "Well, I'm back to the kitchen, dinner will not prepare itself. Or, well... almost" She laughed, convinced normalcy had returned to their household. 

Harry looked at her go...

 _'Normalcy...? What was that?_ Just an elaborate lie, a role played perfectly, just that...

It was just that.

And nothing else...

They all knew it. Of course they knew it. Kind of it... without really understanding it, but still everyone knew it.

Everyone noticed at some point.

But they all pretended they didn't. They convinced themselves it was just their imaginations. Too scared to face the truth... the reality... they simply looked away, pretending, preferring to not look.

"Ginny?" The green-eyed young man called again, this time making sure he was keeping on his mask, for her benefit. She appeared on the door frame carrying a large jar with something similar to cream "I'm going out" he announced standing up as he talked, leaving his beloved, old book, on the coffee table in the living room.

"Out?" She complained, puffing her cheeks "Now? What for? Do you know what time it is? For Merlin and all the great wizards, Harry! It well past eight, in January! You're going to freeze to death. Besides we are just about to start dinner!" she whined " I promised you didn't I? It's your favorite, and it's almost ready... Wait a bit more. And if you still want to go out we can go for a walk after dinner. Like the old times, when we were younger... a romantic trail in the snow, or even better a ride on broom around the town... doesn't that sound great?"

"I'm a little tired... just need some air... or I am really going to fall asleep on the table. My head already feels like full of cotton" Harry replied, laughing a little, he knew he was rambling.

He was not going to hold it much longer... his forced smile was wavering indecisive, tired.

So very tired.

It had been nineteen years... nineteen years and he felt like crumbling. 

Falling under the weight of so many memories, cracking under the pain of his wound. He still had the courage to show one more smile. Nineteen years he had been offering everyone that false, serene smile, it was not strange that she took it for true.

"Don't take too long, alright? Dinner is really almost ready, and I'm going to be mad if you let it get cold" 

"I'm leaving" Harry said as he put on his trench coat and opened the door.

The young wife of the savior of the magical world raised a hand to call for him, to said something else, but the door was already closed.

She turned around... and started cutting vegetables with a somewhat anguished heart, those words had sounded... _wrong._

'I'm leaving' he said.

Wrong... they felt wrong...

As if it were a farewell. A cold farewell.

She was sure that Harry was still scarred by the war, that the lives lost still weighed heavily in Harry's heart, that the memories were sometimes too much for him, that he needed a time of solitude to pay tribute to those who had sacrificed their lives, their future for them to live a life of happiness, freedom and love, she did that often too, a heartfelt and silent thanks to war heroes who had allowed her to finally have what she wanted most, a beautiful family to care for, a husband to love and friends to be with.

Everything was perfect in their lives now that Lord Voldemort had died for good under the unforgiving hand of his beloved husband...

It had been a long path... Harry had been really affected in the years after the war... she however never gave him up... she was so proud to be his wife... his stronghold, his sanctuary in times of need and pain.

Even after they married... nothing had been easy... A family as large as hers was a lot of work... but they were here.

She and Harry had a life together... 

Then... why she still believed something was not right? Everything was perfect, Harry was a tender, if only a little shy lover, a sweet husband, excellent father, extraordinary magician, but ...

But what? What was that she couldn't define? What was what lived in Harry's eyes, what was that she couldn't understand?

It was so scary to see it... Left Harry so far from her, so out of reach...

Shaking her head violently she keep cutting. Harry had done things like this in the past. Her husband usually left for a few hours, then came back saying he had lost track of time. Without anything bad really happening ever...

It was kind of normal... Her husband usually had these 'hard times' and 'episodes' around this time of the year.

When the kids went back to school, when all the joy form the holidays died down... It had to be that... Maybe he missed the kids... or his friends...

Maybe he remembered Sirius... or Remus...

She had to calm down, that bad omen meant nothing. That emptiness she saw in his soul... was surely just her mind playing tricks on her. 

Feasting on her fear of losing him, but nothing more.

━━━━━━━━»•»•┈┈┈ ••✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘ ❈ ∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦••┈┈┈ •«•«━━━━━━━━

In the distance the slim silhouette of Harry Potter merged with the darkness and the snow. With slow steps the wizard moved towards the forest. The strong wind ruffled his now longer, but still unruly black hair. He doesn't seemed to mind at all.

Gray heavy clouds swirled over his head, with the promise of more snow. 

The black haired man keep moving further on the forest. Lost in thoughts. In his doubts... In the pain he cannot stop feeling.

No even a trace left of his smile. His face looked serious, sad and dull.

Stopping abruptly Harry looked over his left shoulder, at twinkling lights in the distance. At the house. Exactly where the previous one had been. His parents home. Nearby in the local cemetery still were the beloved graves of Lily and James.

Why everything he loved ceased to exist? His mother Lily ... His father James... Sirius... Remus ... Dumbledore ...

... and...

With one last glance he left behind Godric Valley, stepping fully into forest.

Heavy darkness fell around. No starlight could went past the thick cover of the forest mantle... The dark, his faithful friend and companion... covered him with its cloak, comforting him in that moment of solitude, of pain, and in turn he embraced it fully, feeling secure in its calm silence...

Dark... Unforgiving blackness.

It was getting late... Well, that was wrong, it had always been late. He had just been unable to see it.

Inexorable the time keep running its course as usual, reminding him... but Harry did not back down. He did not thought about apparating close to home... or walking back... no. Harry keep moving, not really thinking about anything.

Time... was starting to mean less with every step... He was barely aware of his own self.

His feelings still torturing him.

Deep and merciless.

Moving towards the very heart of the forest where the time seemed freeze and the snow eternal.

An old oak tree lived there and looked upon him, serene, wise, ancestral. Full of magic...

Harry walked towards that giant tree... Another year was beginning. The winter holidays were ending and the Godric Valley was again silent, quiet, as all the young people who visited their families had now returned to the prestigious Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 _Hogwarts..._ where life still had some meaning.

Just in that place, but especially at that time... Hogwarts, Hogwarts... dearest Hogwarts ...

Tears filled his eyes, spilled down pale cheeks... were swept by the wind, glowed for an instant... then got lost in infinity.

It was just too much...

The forest was his sanctuary... his haven... where he came to be alone for a while. To cry and mourn... to scream...

When he needed a moment for himself to breathe... He searched in the heart of the forest for a little serenity.

He always stopped by the oak, resting a long moment by its side... then went back... to pretend. 

This time however the gentle, the protective magic of the oak was not going to be enough... 

Within seconds he went past the tree, running while crying.

At every step, he heard in his mind a deep, beloved voice, with each tear he remembered a figure...

Tall...

A shadow... from his past.

Every word, every detail, every moment they had together.

No matter how trivial or insignificant... was coming back... and it was so painful he couldn't bear it.

It had always been like that. But the circumstances, his choices, his stupid decisions... his inexperience sealed his destiny.

Pushing them apart.

And now... now it was late... too late to ask for forgiveness. To rectify.

Too late to even say anything.

What he could he give to see him again... just once...

 _It was just selfishness on his part. So deeply selfish... egoistic._ And s _tupid..._

Every quiet tear was turning the time backwards to the moment of despair... to the age of darkness, of fear... of war... the age that still opened a cruel wound in his soul...

The age that was always on his mind, the one he would never wanted to forget, no matter how much it hurt... 

His Hogwarts time.

It didn't mattered that everything was in shadows during all those years... he could now see and realize... that in the end he had made it alive because one person was always, always there...

For him.

Now he could see and realize how much of his life had always revolved around him in the days of Voldemort.

For good and for bad.

He now had an answer for why the indifference felt just too personal, too uncomfortable, why the betrayal hurt so much... Why that presence was just so important, so necessary to him.

But he was young. Blind and... stupid.

Time didn't mattered at all. Even if years, centuries, or millions of centuries shall pass, he was never going to be able to forget him. The owner of eyes that keep stabbing his heart... Of the voice that still echoed strongly in the emptiness of his life.

Still there despite time, despite life, magic, despite everything... even... _love_.

Nineteen years have passed and the wound was there, as deep as always... never healing.

Etched in the fire of his spirit, of his magic. Consuming him slowly.

If he closed his eyes he could see... black, endless eyes deeply fixated on his... He could hear the voice... the words that tore his world apart... 

He could feel... his soul being ripped apart in two. In a hundred. In a thousand tiny fragments...

Where could they all be now? His parents. James and Lily. His godfather... all his friends...

And him...

He looked at the sky with infinite nostalgia.

All his loved ones ... All of them...

He punched the nearest tree. Hard. The pain didn't matter. It was welcomed. His whole life had been nothing but a lie. A deceit.

Mean to an end...

All those years of him trying to silence the scream building up... all those years of contentment...of masks, of conformity...

Crushed to the ground by just one memory... the memory of a look, the echo of a voice...

There was no rest for him, his spirit or his heart. Just the mask... the pretense... 

All because of his stupid, damned sense of duty... that had gotten him into this never-ending nightmare...

His... Fucking... Hero... Complex...

The words hammered not only his pride, but also his soul, his heart. Wouldn't it have been better if it all ended that time? It would have been better to leave everything in the hands of another. He had done more than enough by then.

Everything had been placed... and he had done his part... why the hell had he to come back?

There was no guarantee... That was why he decided to come back, for his damned arrogance... his damned Gryffindor pride. To finish the job and be sure he was gone for good. His need of revenge... his need to be him the only one who must suffer. No more victims... no more prophecies...

No more kids forced to be meat for slaughter... 

Why had he had to understand it all only in the end?

... One more example of his profound stupidity.

Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, placed his arm over his eyes and cried again.

The forest itself seemed to understand his pain, and answer him in kind... the wind grew increasingly furious, accompanying him.

Harry cried for a long, long time until there was not a single tear left.

Then picked himself up and started climbing the small hill ahead of him... on the top was a glade... and Harry raised his head to see the raising moon.

Collapsing on his knees upon the moon the weight of his decision finally hit him...

He was... free...

The intention had been there... maybe... for years... but only now he was fully aware of it...

He was not going back... He was not going back to the house. He was escaping.

From Ginny. From the world.

That labeled him as hero. That smiled at him tenderly only when he, like an idiot, did exactly what they expected him to do...

He hoped Ginny didn't decided to go looking for him on her own...

This forest was ancient... and tricky... it could be dangerous for her. He deeply regretted not being able to say goodbye to her... to his children. He would have wanted to at least see them all together one last time.

Smile for them authentically even just once, and say goodbye.

But that was not going to be possible... 

His decision had been made...

From the moment he set foot outside the house it had been decided.

Subconsciously... perhaps...

But he knew he couldn't go back... there was no turning from here... the oak... had been left behind...

Getting up once again he admired the forest and the moon... there was no need for staying there anymore...

He was not coming back. Neither tonight...

Or ever again.

Maybe was better this way. He had nothing more to say, nothing to feel. Why saying anything? It was better for Ginny to forge her own conclusion to whatever excuse he could say.

He was not going to regret this... as selfish and horrible as that sounded.

In reality his wife, his children had lived all that time with a false person, who did not exist. Barely more than a zombie. An empty shell crushed under the pressure of impossible standards, hidden behind the mask of a calm and perfect father, of a kind and sincere person, perfect husband and loyal friend.

There was no longer need for that false person to fill a hole in the table, or a privileged cubicle in the auror headquarters. There was enough money in the family account so Ginny never had to work a day of her life. Enough money for his children to not suffer any kind of deprivation... They were after all the family of Harry Potter, by Merlin and all the wizards, they had friends to spare who could help them in any kind of situation.

And the ministry would be happy to provide them with any care.

He... was no longer necessary. Any demands of daily life that made him turn his eyes from his wish were long gone.

Spinning around under the bless of the moonlight Harry Potter disappeared from the Godric Valley...

Forever.

Without a farewell, or even a tear...

Exactly an hour later a trembling light entered the forest. Ginny's wand lit up a path that led her into the woods, where the redhead called her husband over and over... 

Unsuccessfully.

━━━━━━━━»•»•┈┈┈ ••✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘ ❈ ∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦••┈┈┈ •«•«━━━━━━━━

The feeling was still uncomfortable, nineteen years or a thousand after. Apparating was the most uncomfortable feeling he had ever experienced in his life. He couldn't get used to it even though it was the safest way to travel undetected. His work as an auror had taught him that.

Wind was much stronger here, or perhaps it was his impression now the shelter of the forest had been left behind.

It's very scent was also different, the proximity with the sea could be perceived in it...

His feelings were also very different... much more... intense. Perhaps for its closeness... it was now just a few meters away from him. He started walking... Not thinking, just moving by instinct... 

Until he reached it...

Harry collapsed in front of it... looking speechless at its cold, dead beauty... Its peace...

It hurt... like hell...

Taking out his wand from the coat he conjured a bouquet of white roses and placed it on the polished marble in front of him.

An offering.

Memories returned to his mind as he placed them, stronger than ever, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it.

"Forgive me" He spoke and his voice sounded coarse... "I'm late again" He said looking at his watch, in all this years he found himself incapable to stop using it, a thing everyone around him found weirdly endearing... "It was true..." He continued "You were right about me. I was a brat... Easy to manipulate. Unsurprisingly I never realized it... until it was too late" Reaching out he touched the tombstone.

Sliding his fingers over it with infinite gentleness. It was a beautiful grave of black marble.

Proud and intimidating the tomb stood against the sky.

Gray... and restless... soon it would begin to snow here too.

Carefully traversing the smooth surface he touched the engraving. There was written the name of the one who he loved more than anyone.

The one he had been loving... longer that he realized.

In silence. In secret...

Confused...

Afraid...

The name of the one who protected him at the highest cost... against his best interests... placing his survival before anything...

A man who carried the fate of the world over his shoulders for decades... And him...

Incapable of noticing... until it was too late...

"Why?" He shouted closing his fist, hating everything... Fate. Himself. Why couldn't he be one dead instead?

Broken Harry sat on the wet, well maintained grass.

It was cold, but the green-eyed man felt colder inside his soul.

 _"Incendio!"_ he exclaimed and a magical fire appeared floating in front of him. Brightening his tired face a little.

Nothing could do the light to help his broken soul. Or his dying heart.

There, inches from him, rested the lifeless body of the person he loved. Impossibly close... and forever out of his reach. 

How stupid one person could be?

A mixture of love and pain surged from the embers of his heart. He... was the only one who was honest with Harry. The only person who knew who Harry was... truly. And despite that he decided to defend him to all costs, decided to take the burden and give him everything needed to secure his success. 

Even when Harry was never going to recognize in his actions what they meant. He fought for him until the last moment.

And even in death... he gave the last piece of him to Harry...

The moment he he saw Severus dying he realized the man's last thought, his last heartbeat were for him...

For Harry to see.

"Look at me..." Those were his last words. The ones still torturing him.

With the last breath, with the last strength of his life Severus hands grabbed his robe tightly, desperately.

And when he did... that look, those eyes screamed at him... telling everything without even saying anything...

Eyes that stole his soul and broke his heart... becoming his wound, his torment...

The invincible Severus Snape... fallen. And with him, part of Harry died too.

From that moment, anger and deepest hatred filled his heart, his life had only one clear objective: to destroy Voldemort no matter how... 

Severus ultimate sacrifice... gave him the strength to fight, to become a sacrifice himself. For the people. For the innocent... for the peace and salvation of the wizarding world...

The Prince's story became a dagger in his heart.

Even today. Because Severus reason to fight was his love for Lily.

And that... hurt like one hundred swords piercing his heart... Feeling jealousy of his mother, whom he loved too and who died so many years ago...

It was something he couldn't accept.

So he gave up. Despite his realization he denied it... fiercely. And started a war long lost.

He tried hard for years to fool himself only to fail miserably. 

Berating himself for all his failures... for not being able to see the further than his father's enemy. The greasy teacher that he always depended on without knowing it, the one who tried to guide him... to teach him... if only he had the courage to reply... if only he could turn the time back... to tell him... how many years it took him to understand the meaning of that last words...

The meaning in Severus eyes before they close... He will never know and that will be his punishment...

"Forgive me Severus" Harry said "I never realized what you were doing for me, what you really meant to me... how alone I was without you... how lost..." he whispered "You're right I am the greatest idiot in the universe, if only I had put aside my stupid arrogance, and the hero complex you always talked about, maybe I could have seen you, for who you really were, and realize why you were helping me... Maybe I could have told you..." 

"... Nothing I have is real to me since you left... only all your memories are real. I live with them, from them and for them. They repeat constantly and even though it hurt... they allow me to stay alive, they allow me to breathe..."

"... I love you..." He whispered " I love you... and I loved you back then... I fell in love with you when I saw the real you, the one who poured his heart in the margin pages of an old book... not even knowing it was you... I loved you... half-blood prince... I was just too scared to admit it... My love... turned poison when I thought you betrayed us... "

"When he killed you... when I saw your eyes... when I heard your last breathe... I finally understood how much I truly loved you... "

Nineteen years had passed since the war ended, nineteen long years yearning for a love that never was... 

Time was...

... slowly dying out.

His heart will no longer allow him to live another second. Not now that the mask had been fully ripped off.

It was time... to go and search for him...

"Diffindo" the wizard spoke, pointing the wand at his wrists... warm red blood slid down the broken pale skin. His freshly torn hand trembled as he gripped the wand one last time "Diffindo" he repeated in a whisper feeling the skin rip under the force of the spell, he fought to stay as steady as possible... but he was tired... so very tired.

Tired as if in those nineteen years he hadn't slept a single second.

Now nothing else mattered.

Just being next to this grave until the very end.

The magic fire was warm... and there was no pain... finally... drowsiness flooded his body.

Exhausted, his body settled on Severus Snape's grave, in perfect ease... sleep was taking over him... his hands fell, lax... and his wand rolled away from him...

Blood keep flowing from his wrists.

The spell had torn deep and the tendons were broken.

But there was no more pain... just warmth and pious sleepiness that made him slide more and more into unconsciousness.

In the dark.

A last quiet and finally gentle smile appeared on his exhausted face.

"Severus..." Harry called as his eyes lost the light, the brightness that characterized them, he could swear he was not alone.

It didn't mattered if it was real or just one last desperate attempt of his brain to fulfill his wish, to palliate death...

... The presence was unmistakable... looming over him...

In that last moment long, thin hands touched his... closing around his bleeding wrists... Harry could almost feel the warmth, the softness... the hands of the bravest wizard in the world, it was him... his spirit... the soul that had remained for just one last reason...

One last...

Pressure in his lungs warned Harry that he was dying, his breathing was shallow... but he was not afraid... the hands were still there. Holding him.

"Look at me..." he asked with his last strength and closed his eyes feeling the darkness slowly taking him.

It was all he needed... it was enough...

He was ready for it all to end...

But then... an invisible, unbearably soft pressure settled over his lips to steal his last breath... his last kiss.

And with that truth flowed in his mind... The Prince's Story. Dumbledore. Lily. James.

No words were needed, not even thoughts.

Harry grasped the hands of Severus and returned the kiss that had just been taken from him.

It was everything...

The voice was weak but somehow Harry could hear more clearly it... in the distance...

It was Severus... and he was calling...

Calling his name.

━━━━━━━━»•»•┈┈┈ ••✦⋅•⋅⊰∙∘ ❈ ∘∙⊱⋅•⋅✦••┈┈┈ •«•«━━━━━━━━

At the break of dawn a loud crack broke the deep silence. Draco Malfoy had just apparated outside the Graveyard opening the iron gates with the non-verbal mode of alohomora. The doors opened for him with and he started walked with a firm pace, he knew the way...

His long platinum hair was hold up into a ponytail that flapped with every step. On his arms there was a large bouquet of red roses... it's dew gleaming in the early sun.

The fog was still very thick... But there was a hint... a promise of a bright sun later in the day... 

Upon reaching the top of the cliff, he looked over at the grave he had come to visit... instantly containing a curse.

Over the immaculate black marble was a silhouette... a body...

His bouquet of roses slipped from his hands and landed on the grass with a soft rustle as he ran to the figure... it was not just a figure...

It was... a corpse...

He knew who it was without a doubt, it had been years since they saw each other but that figure was as unmistakable as his clothes. The worn out leather of that coat was as hideous as he remembered...

The figure was Potter.

But his face was horribly pale, his lips blue...

The big dark stains on the floor confirmed what he already knew, there was nothing he could do.

Next to Potter, over the grave was the bouquet of white roses he found every year on this day when he visited.

It was painfully obvious now... Potter had been always the answer to the mystery of the white roses.

Kneeling next to the corpse he placed it gently face up on the marble. Wincing... Potter was certainly dead.

He had... killed himself or so the deep tears in his wrist told him so... 

Suicide.

He must have been there for a long time, bleeding to death... slowly but inexorably.

Terrible.

Potter... decided to take his own life in from of the grave of his godfather... for no apparent reason...

For him, however, it was not a clash of concepts.

He knew... for a long while... well kind off... but seeing this only confirmed what he always suspected.

That Potter actually was in love with his godfather.

Since when? He was not exactly sure... But he started noticing around the fifth year at Hogwarts... around the time Potter cursed him with Sectusempra...

His hand moved over to the wound instinctively... He still had the scar of it to this day... he had really believed he was going to die back then...

The way Potter acted around his godfather bothered him greatly... so he payed close attention to the Gryffindor clown...

And was dumbfounded when he realized the fool was practically broadcasting how he felt for everyone to see...

It had been kind of disgusting... until he looked at his godfather... 

... Draco was sure the feelings Potter had were returned...

The look in his godfather's eyes when Potter cursed him... The questions he asked... 

It was incredible to him that no one else noticed. Specially that meddlesome know-it-all of Granger... 

What was even worse, it seemed that Potter himself was not aware...

Did they ever told something to each other...?

He doubted it... Potter was an idiot... and Severus... perhaps... no... he knew that it was too much at stake... his godfather always protected Potter after all, spying on his behalf the most powerful and dangerous dark magician of all time, wanting to free him from Damocles Sword pending over his head...

All while deceiving perfectly everyone including of course the very same Potter... He died protecting him. Saving him. Dying in his place... refusing to give him up to the Dark Lord... 

'In the end... I think that's a perfectly valid way to love' Draco though... 

They loved each other... but death and fate got in the way... The grief of losing Severus plunged the savior of the wizarding world into darkness. On a certain way... despite his godfather efforts... Potter died together with him that day...

After that only Potter's mask remained. An empty shell with no soul...

He witnessed it.

Seeing it all from afar... as he was not attached to him... they were never friends... or even acquaintances...

Perhaps that was the reason he could saw it more clearly... Potter was not living... he just let himself be dragged around by the people around him... The fool let them live their desires through him...

Letting out a deep sigh... he looked at the icy body in front of him.

"You couldn't take it anymore, right Potter?" He said to the corpse, who of course didn't talk back or even looked at him.

Draco thought the beatific smile on the corpse was however deeply disturbing. 

A strong gush of wind howled all over the secluded space... "All you wanted was to be by his side, right?" The blonde murmured. 

There was no answer.

Of course.

Pulling out his wand Draco levitated the most famous corpse in the world, depositing it next to the grave, over the emerald grass. 

"I will grant your last wish then" He said. It was the least he could do for him. 

Cleaning the body with quick spell, he fixed his clothes with another... deciding under the hideous cloak he had sent to nearest volcano the famous corpse was decently dressed. At least enough to be received by his last place of rest...

Giving his body back to the world, to the Weasleys... was something he didn't wanted to even consider...

Potter should rest here, with his Godfather...

Everybody else was better off believing Potter was another Merlin, simply vanishing into thin air...

Making a very complicated flourish he pointed his wand towards the grave... Earth beneath his feet roared as it was opened and the marble as it was broken. The cracking of broken wood echoed last...

And Draco's uneasiness raised tenfold. 

Resting over the satin interior of the coffin, with his usual unyielding expression was Severus. Magically preserved, his godfather looked as if asleep, but of course he did not moved an inch. He was not breathing.

He had been dead for twenty years.

Feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably he turned to Potter and levitated his corpse, deeply uncomfortable with the situation, not really sure anymore why was he doing it... 

But he was not going stop in the middle of it. He was not going to question it. Not now. Placing Potter's corpse into the coffin next Severus sent a shiver down his spine. The man who had been there for the last twenty years seemed to be marginally moving to make room for the new inhabitant.

It was his mind. His imagination. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him.

All the hairs in the back if his neck were standing. His hands shook in horror as he saw the two dead men placed face to face by spell smiled to each other, a few inches apart, the corpses hands seemed to hold each other... their bodies were so close... it almost looked as if they were going to kiss ...

 _"Reparo!_ " The blonde shouted with more force than necessary.

The splintered coffin sealed in front of his eyes and the paralysis holding his body like a curse broke...

He chided himself...

What he had just saw had to be a lie... It had to be...

It was horrible.

Disturbing.

The dirt moved on it's own by his command as he tried to calm himself.

Finally with a snap, the marble of the tomb also sealed. No one, either muggle or wizard would ever suspect anything. His work was clean. Perfect.

It was not the first time he had done something like this. And it will be sadly not the last... The Aguamenti spell solved the blood stains over the grass and marble, a simple cleaning spell erased away any other evidence.

There was however one last thing he wanted to do.

Raising his wand one last time he created a small border decoration craved in the black marble. An ornament that was actually an inscription, written in runes, small, easily overlooked, it said: "HP 1980-2018" Calling up the roses from the floor, his own red ones, and Harry's white ones he placed them into to the grave.

"Happy Birthday, Severus" The blonde muttered. Placing the bouquets over the marble "Potter... please don't be and idiot and care for him, make him happy, goodbye..."

Turning around he clearly felt a pair of hands being placed over his shoulders. Very distinct from each other, one was weak barely a pressure, the other was a strong, comforting, _familiar_ hold. Draco stifled a sob. 

"Well, I'm leaving" He announced to no one in particular, feeling incredibly stupid. However, he knew that he was saying goodbye to Severus and Potter, that they were listening to him.

Shaking his head very hard to chase away those strange thoughts he finally started walking towards the iron gates.

Once outside he turned to look through the bars for the last time in at least one season. 

A black marble grave standing prideful, distinctively majestic against the grey skies. For a fraction of second however he believed he saw something else.

Two shadow figures sat over together over the marble... immediately fading. The dark disturbing tale of a condemned love...

Spinning around himself he disappeared with another loud crack.

E N D

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for taking the time to read it. I really appreciate it.


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